It's Been Forever. And your point is?

I know. It's just that I've been busy. And happy. And Facebook, it seems, has taken the place of blogging. Kitten and I have been getting into trouble. The above picture was taken on a cruise in October, a trip I had gifted Kitten for her birthday. I'm not sure this picture was taken the same day of the story I'm going to relate, but you get the gist.

This particular boat had an adults only area on the stern. Not a buck nekkid adults only area, just a place where kids weren't allowed and there was nice lounging furniture. And a bar. And a small pool. And cheap drinks.

We grabbed a spot pretty early in the morning. The sun was warm and the place filled up very quickly. Kitten is a bit of a social butterfly, so while I was reading, she was back and forth to the pool making friends. The drink special of the day? Two dollar bloody Marys that not only had plenty of alcohol, but giant honking olives in them. A delicious breakfast.

I quickly lost count of how many drinks I had imbibed, but I was in a fantastic mood and in my mind, only swayed a little bit when I walked. I managed to keep reading for the first couple of libations, but soon had trouble focusing, so I just joined Kitten in the pool and occasionally mumbled something every now and then to give the impression that I was sociable and paying attention to the conversation. Eventually, I had to use the facilities and being a good cruiser, I got out of the pool and headed to the bathroom.

This is where things took a turn for the worse. As I came out of the bathroom (I think. At this point, my recollection is mostly what Kitten has told me happened more than what I actually remember.), Kitten grabbed my by the arm and said something like "We have to go back to the room." When I asked why, she told me that she didn't know, she had just been instructed by a crew member to take me back to our cabin. I didn't argue. We packed up our gear and stumbled back to our cabin where I promptly passed out on the bed. This all happened pretty early, around noon I think.

Have you ever been power drinking and been perfectly fine until you stopped ingesting alcohol? That's what happened to me. I woke up, the room was spinning and I was getting that familiar feeling of rebellion from my stomach. Kitten gave me a trash can and soon I wasted about fifty bucks worth of liquor. Actually, I think I had absorbed all of the vodka, but there was plenty of olives and tomato juice that made a break for it.

Generally, I pride myself on my vomiting etiquette. I hit the container without fail. I don't spout the "I'm never gonna drink again" cliche. I don't ask anyone else to clean up for me.

Not this time.

Most of it hit the bag lined trash can, but a significant about splashed on the dust ruffle of the bed and onto the floor. So now the smell of sour tomato juice permeated the small cabin, which was only about a hundred square feet. Ewwww. I felt better soon enough and now it was getting time for dinner. We got up and I tried to bag up the debris I had left behind and wipe down the dust ruffle and carpet as best as I could. Soon we noticed a piece of paper on the floor by the door. It was a message from boat security notifying us that I would no longer be allowed to drink alcohol while on board the boat! This was day two of a seven day cruise! Who in the hell drinks so much that a cruise line cuts them off? I mean, that's how they make the majority of their profit! We debated a while about what I could have possibly done to have deserved such a punishment, but our minds kept coming up blank. I had an excuse, because I was still pretty much drunk, but Kitten seemed sober to me and she could find no fault with my behavior.

We decided to stop off at the pursers before dinner and see if we could get an explanation. Once we got there, they called security to come explain it to us. Our basic questions revolved around trying to find out what I had done. Nobody could tell us. Eventually they caved in and reinstated my alcohol privileges, salvaging the rest of the cruise.

My apologies go out to our room steward. He spoke very little English, but always had a smile and a good morning/good evening for us, even after hauling away my bag of vomit. He had our carpet cleaned and and I think worked on the dust ruffle, but the scent of sour tomatoes hung in the air for the rest of the trip. He got a large tip. I think I apologized to Kitten as well, but she just shrugged and said that I didn't do anything wrong. She never complained about my emesis and never mentioned the smell. What a trooper! I owe her one.